Yesterday,the story was aboutpeople - - crowds at the annualYard Sale where I purchased this dignifiedbird, my friend Larry, who gave me these violets,and Elmer, from whom we purchasedthese River Birch trees over a ​decade ago.

Larry's Violets & Elmer's River Birch Photo by ERSwett

And thenthere's dandelions,showing up in random places,a pesky weed for some, but a cheerfulharbinger of health for others.It's all about the narrativewe choose.

Proud Dandelion, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

Thedandelionat the foot ofa tree, shaded bydaffodils feels differentfrom the dandelion blowingin the wind on a grassy hillside at the​landfill.

Landfill Landscape May 2020 Photo by ERSwett

And thehawk soaringabove that same landfillinspires a different kind of reverencethan do robins diggingin my yard.

Hawk at the Lebanon Landfill, May 2020 Photo by ERSwett

I lovehow even whenalone in the garden or on ahillside in an industrial part of town, Iam with others, part of a narrative that transcendsthe weather on a single day or my stateof mind in a givenmoment.

Daffodils & Largeflower Bellwort Photo by ERSwett

Please.May I find hopein a time of trouble. Thank you for the gifts that emerge. Forgetme not. The world is sweet, even though itcan be hard to focus & things feelblurry when people & plantstry to share space. It'spossible, ​though.So much is​possible.

Earliertoday I sharedmy story in an emptyAVA studio with my work, Casey Carpenter and his cameras.It was raining & cold, but the light was lovely& the space welcoming, as always.I am here, I thought, in​community.At last.

A mix of this and that in community Photo by ERSwett

Theday beganwith a 6am Zoomcall with Natalie Isaacs,the founder of 1 Million Women.With 1000 people from around theglobe I joined the conversation. We sharedjoy in each other's company & inspired each otherto feel the collective power of our individualactions. It was the perfect way toclose out Earth Month​2020,

Some of what we accomplished this month! Screenshot from Ecochallenge.org

as wasthis summaryof actions completedby the Upper Valley ClimateAction 2020 team in this year's EarthDay Ecochallenge. 34 of us showed up anddid a bunch of cool stuff. We were among more than10,000 people & were 1 of 818 teams. Yay us! But now I'mstruggling with a sense of inadequacy I've felt allmonth, a feeling that emerged, I think,because I was beingmeasured.

Textures, Colors & Shapes Photo by ERSwett

Whatam I to do,I wonder, with thejoy of being in communitymaking a difference for people &the planet and the simultaneous strangeanxiety that that participation creates? For me,it means it's time to go to the compost,and see if, once again, it canhelp me make senseof our ​world.

Earth Day 2020 Snow on the Compost Photo by ERSwett

On EarthDay it was fresh​snow & a few days laterit was a bunch of flying insectsamong the shredded COVID-19 behaviorguidelines sent by our President. Hot and cold;Inspired & anxious. Is that ​what I willremember about EarthMonth 2020?

Insects having a feast Photo by ERSwett

Measurabledata, whether froman ecochallenge or a globalhealth crisis, is real & understandable.When it comes to climate, I feel good that I havedone something to increase biodiversity or decrease waste;​When it comes to health, I feel proud that I havehelped flatten the curve. But it feels likethat objectivity actually deniesme the visceral realitiesof ​being human...

As I ​atethese treats, I reflectedon this collective need to 'becounted,' whether in the economy, in anEcochallenge, or in this global crisis. Might thisslowing down invite us to think more deeply aboutthis connection between individuals andthe collective, whether on​Zoom or in our​kitchens?

Sarah & Chanler make dinner Photo by ERSwett

And inthe process, mightwe also consider the differencesbetween what is actually counted and whatactually matters? If I counted everything that mattered,I would no longer be living - - I would bea counter, not a person. It wouldbe weird.

The first chives Photo by ERSwett

I fumbledmy way through theEcoChallenge, just as I feel likeI am fumbling through this COVID-19 situation. Flexibility and forgiveness of self andothers seem vital, especially when dealing with variableweather and emotional fluctuations during a global pandemic!But as the story I told this morning reveals (you'llhave to stay tuned for the actual video),powerful things happen whenwe honor moments oftension & discord.

More rain and cold Photo by ERSwett

I'mcoming to understand not justin my head, but deep in myheart, that reconciliation with self inrelation to climate is possible, but only when incommunity, whether that community is a bunch of plantsor garbage ​or really cool people at a place like AVA.To learn more about this cool storytellingstuff, check out Casey Carpenter'swork and stay tuned forwhatever comes​next.

Selfie at AVA April 30, 2020

Please​be vigilant,stay safe & bewell. You and I arenot alone and we aredefinitely in this​together.

The sunrises and sets,oblivious to us & our​endless admiration. So today ​weexpress gratitude to and honor that sunand all that makes our lives possible, includingthe food we eat & the fibers we wear. Thesun & the earth do not have a sayhowever, and must takewhatever wegive.

The Golden Hour, 2012 Photo by ERSwett

Roads,for example,curve in relation to thetopography, but still there areroads. We impose again and again.But from a hot air balloon on this particularmorning, in this ​particular place,it was a stunning,

Anniversary Hot Air Balloon Ride, 2005 Photo by ERSwett

as arethe gardensthat emerge in oldmines & around old homes.The shapes and colors captivate &each photograph honors the play of lighton the textures & forms that wecreate. But these scenes are all about us &​the impositionof our will.

Butchart Gardens, Victoria BC Photo by ERSwett, 2011

Kew Gardens & Chihuly, May 2019 Photo by ERSwett

Thislove letter isto people & the planetbecause Earth Day is about ourrelationship. For me, it celebrates thosequiet places where I find and nurture peace,not alone in the wild, but in domestic places, likein an intimate garden at home where​I try to be in balance withthe land on which​I live.

Lilacs, 2010 Photo by ERSwett

Are thesesolar panels, forexample, a blight on thelandscape, or a work of modernart? As a photographer, it's all about therelationship between light, form and function.As for me, it turns out I am happiest celebrating thenatural world when in close proximity tostructures of all kinds that allowus to live. I am, I guess,a domesticated​naturalist.

I lovehow that samesun sets on the ocean,creating reflections on water,food for animals &enjoyment​for us.

Mexico, 2016 Photo by ERSwett

Mypleasurein and gratitudefor the natural world areimmense. And in the fifty yearssince we first named a day in honor of the​earth we humans have learned and accomplisheda lot. We pay attention to air & water quality& we make time to reflect on ourdynamic relationship...most of the​time.

Galapagos Islands, 2011 Photo by ERSwett

Cheers!

Gram's Cool Purse, 2014 Photo by ERSwett

I lovehow thereare bags decoratedwith flowers that becomegifts from generation to generationand I love that we can travel to far awayplaces to buy intricate textiles forour children to use & enjoyfor generations tocome.

So eventhough it snowedthis morning, later today,I'll be in my protected and nurturingherb garden planting some rhubarb, mostof which we will eat and some ofwhich may become a​work of art.

Rhubarb, 2017 Photo by ERSwett

WhenI look at thisrhubarb in the compost,I see the playful and colorful actionof the discarded stems on the surface & thediscolored coffee filters & mildewed orange rind hiddenbehind. 50 years of celebrating the earth & I think I, like many, continue to struggle to both enjoy the beauty of what wesee while also embracing & actively workingwith the mess we have created justbelow the surface.

Funny Guy at the Lebanon Landfill, Earth Day 2020 Photo by ERSwett

Andwhen at theLebanon Landfill thismorning, this funny little guyseemed to say "Happy Earth Day, Lyn.I'm in good hands here. These people know whatthey are doing. And when they burry me, I'll still be here50 years from now." There he was, sticking outof the molded mountain of wasteon which I stood, ensuringthat I not forget.

Rhubarb & Pea Pods, 2019 Photo by ERSwett

At theend of the day,the sun will set, andthe light and energy that gaveme life will move on, whether I amhere or not. I can, however, celebrate thebeauty that surrounds us while alsohonoring the true impactof my life.

It was amagical momentwhen I gave birth to myson 20 years ago on April 16thand to my daughter, just after 9/11 less thantwo years later. Witnessing this hugwas a magical moment ofa different kind, butheartwarmingas well.

Pomegranates, 2015 18" x 18" Photo by ERSwett Available at The Vermont Center for Photography

This pastweek I reflectedon other times during thepast 20 years when I have felt thatsame powerful & loving energy. Who knew Iwould end up stalling on my Compost Compositions,which I first 'discovered' in 2015 with these pomegranatesand apple peels? It's cool that like my children, themagic continues. There is somethinggoing on in that pile that Ican not contain.

Apple Pie, 2015 18" x 18" Photo by ERSwett Available at The Vermont Center for Photography

It's a lifeforce brewingwithin each image thatis, for me, almost as powerfulas being a mother. Like a child whobecomes an adult before your eyes, theseCompost Compositions are snapshots, momentsof beauty, which, like that hug, are part ofa longer and lasting narrative, butwhich are fleeting​as well.

Just aseach pieceof discarded fruitor vegetable scrap calledto me, saying "pay attention, I'vegot a story too," inspiring me to createthese images in the first place, it feels as ifthese Compost Compositions are singing out tome now, saying "get me out there, into the world, please.We want to share our magic with others." These first three pieces are calling from The VermontCenter for Photography in Brattleboro,where they are trapped, unableto be experienced inperson.

Mixed Carbon, 2019 30" x 30" Photo by ERSwett, Available from the photographer

Otherpieces, likeMixed Carbon, hidein my studio, bringing calmand delight, but calling ​out for a wider​audience. Or, my first ​Dried Flowers, from 2017,are part of a set of greeting cards also wanting to sharetheir energy - - The cards are calling out "pleasewrite letters, keep connections betweenpeople going, & oh, by they way,the US Postal Serviceneeds us!"

Over theyears, I have learnedto listen to my children & amgrateful for their guidance, like when theyunknowingly inspired me to finally seek help for mylifelong anxiety or when they encouragedme to actually sell my photographs.So now, I am listening tothem & my work.

Duringthis time ofsocial isolation, itfeels strange to store allthese magical moments in mystudio, when they could be out in theworld for others to see. Because, at their heart,Compost Compositions are all about community andour essential interdependence. Just as thegreen stuff and brown stuff have tomix & mingle to create nutrientrich 'black gold,' so too dowe depend on​each other.

Black Gold, 2017 Photo by ERSwett 8"x8" Canvas print available online

So herewe are! It's the50th Anniversary of EarthWeek, we are entering our sixthweek at home as we #flattenthecurve,and it's time to share the love & powerful magicin each of these Compost Compositions.Please visit my online Store or theVermont Center forPhotography.

I amexcited todonate a portionof proceeds from all CompostCompositions sold during April 2020 toCOVID-19 Relief and, in celebration of the 50thanniversary of Earth Day to ecochallenge.org.We are in this together. If you are ableand inspired, please share​the magic!

Daffodils, 2018 Photo by ERSwett 24" x 24" Photo available from the photographer

Last week,I'd had enough.While attempting tomake masks, my sewingmachine jammed, a sure signthat it was time to stop, and when Itried to stitch the outline of a photograph ofmyself onto that silk dress I've beenworking on for a year,it was a mess.

The Misshapen Hand Photo by ERSwett

I was done.We'd been hometogether for almost amonth and I was frazzled. Sofirst I took myself for a walk andcalled my sister. Then, when I got home,I made pizza, got out some wine and sharedmy exhaustion. "What can we do?" my son asked.How cool is that? We then created a plan for who wouldcook which night; We talked about Mom's limits...and there are many. And, by the end of themeal we got it - We are definitely inthis whole weird Covid-19thing together.

Pizza Dinner with Wine & Good King Henry, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

Evenso, I still feltuntethered on Easter,so went for another walk, butlonger this time, and wondered if I wouldexperience any signs to guide me,this being a mystical timeand all...and sureenough...

The People's Car, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

First,there wasthis VW hubcapjust sitting on the railing.VW - Volkswagon - A car forPeople. OK. Got it. One reason thiscrisis is so hard to manage is that it impactsall of us, but some more than others.Actively helping those in needdoesn't feel like enough.There it is, that nastyneed to do more,always do​more.

Rusted Iron on West Wheelock Street, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

Next, this rustedhandrail, unlovedand imperfect, but stillable to provide support. To meits textures and shadows are captivatingand reassuring. Perhaps this time is forcing meto confront my own perfect imperfectionsand celebrate this undeniable factthat I can't not see beautyeven in worn outthings.

Water Management, Dartmouth College, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

And thenthere was thisgreen sandbag withits mate up the hill -- onea snake, the other a donut. Theyclearly serve a purpose, having somethingto do with water management, but there in the woods,coming up from the Connecticut River, theyseemed so strange. The first brightgreen on this early​spring day.

Blue New York Times, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

At thispoint, my walkhad become it's ownkind of Easter Egg Hunt, butinstead of colorful eggs, I found randomobjects, each of which felt like asign, because I was on asearch and therethey were.

Pink Ribbon, Pine Park 2020 Photo by ERSwett

This pinkribbon, so brighton the forest floor, butthere, communicating somethingto someone, perhaps even to me -- Beware,I'm here - Don't trip? But instead, I got tripped up by thesemysterious marks on the trees. Are they partof some game, or do they havegreat significance?

The morestrange markingsI witnessed, the moreamused I became. Here I washoping for 'a sign' and I got way morethan I bargained for. Is it true that Signs, ofthe mystical kind with a capital "S," are only asmeaningful as we make them? Signs appear because​we look for them when we need them. In thiscase, it seems, all these colorful signs weremerely there to remind me that I amin control of how I interpret notjust these markings, butthis crazy time​as well.​

The Green Poop Bag, Hanover Golf Course, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

And then,when I emergedfrom the woods and wason my way home, this green doggypoop bag was swinging in the wind on thesebright red twigs. Really? Clearly this isa sign that sometimes thereare just weird thingsblowing in thewind.

Co-Exist, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

Maybeit's just thatsimple. I am beingasked to co-exist not justwith my immediate family, butwith the all of it -- the mysteries & theuncomfortable realities of beinghuman on a planet that isstruggling to supportus. In the midstof it all,I seek meaningand relevance. It's why Itake photographs. It's why I sharemy work and my ideas on this blog. Becausefor me, it's spiritual. Just as there is power in the waycompost emerges as nutrient rich soil, there is power inshowing up & trying to make sense of ourselvesand our circumstances, with all ourabundant and colorfulimperfections.

All in aday's work withmy Womanswork Gloves.Still March, and there I was, outpruning and clipping and clearing. I did,indeed, feel like a strong womanbuilding a gentle world andthis oregano shoota gift from thepowers atbe.

Seekingsomething normal,I collected compost fromUmpleby's Cafe and Bakery inHanover and came home to processit. But when I downloaded the photographsfrom what had been glorious CompostCompositions, I saw that somethinghad gone terribly wrongwith the exposure.Why now?

Faulty exposure #2 Photo by ERSwett

Was itme? Whathappened to mytrusted Fuji camera thatit also messed up the imagesI captured at The Lebanon Landfillearlier on that same day. What's going on, Iwonder, profound grief emerging notjust at these 'lost' images, butat so much right now, forso many people in somany places.

Then thereis gratitude for mysister-in-law, Katherine,whose recently released bookof poetry, Voice Message, captures herprofound grief at the loss of her 21 year olddaughter almost a decade ago and the loss of allthat might have been, but can't be because of a single fallon a single day on a ski hill far away. I can't readmore than a poem or two a day. It'sjust too intense right nowwith this virus...

Chanler & Sarah, Easter Day April 4, 2010 Photo by ERSwett

...and myown two childrenat home, both approachingtwenty-one, but not there yet. Weare not meant to be together right now.They are supposed to be with their own friends,like Rachel was all thoseyears ago.

Here we are. #frontstepsproject by Etna, NH photographer Kata Sasvari

Insteadwe are together.As they mourn the lossof a graduation or a 20th birthdaywith friends I think about all the differentkinds of losses and can, I think, finally comprehendthat grief in all its forms is real, but thatultimately, some is just somuch more profoundthan ​others.

Grief & Gratitude at the Landfill - - Sad at all the discarded stuff but glad for the amazing people who show up every day to take care of it. Photo by ERSwett

So whileI grieve for theloss of images fromthe landfill that I will neversee, I am grateful not just for thosethat were on my other camera, but forthe knowledge that I can always goback another day and the crewwill be there making moremountains out of ourtrash. It will be different, butthe same.

Glad for quilting supplies I've never used April 3, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

A lostchild can notbe retrieved. So whenmy husband told me that babies& other young people are now dying fromCovid-19, I experienced more grief, but am gratefulfor 'Woman's Work,' like tending the garden or sewing clothmasks that will protect us from ourselves (lest we touchour faces) and each other, (lest one of us is sickand coughs). It is strange to protectourselves from ourselves. Atthis moment, though,what else is amotherto do?

Remembering how to use a sewing machine April 3, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

So, Isew masksout of repurposed​boxers and favorite oldfloral flannel PJs, which wereburied at the bottom of our rag pilein that funny drawer beneath our dryerwhich we so rarely open, but whichis, at this moment, provingextremely helpful.

Re-purposing PJs into 9" x 7" 'sheets.' Photo by ERSwett

And whileI sit and sew, Ithink about Katherinetransforming her grief intopoetry. While I can never knowwhat she has experienced, I embracethis time with my children and the chanceto channel my current angst. Who knew old cotton rags wouldoffer this opportunity atthis particularmoment?

Pleats in cloth masks Photo by ERSwett

It turnsout that makingmasks is harder than Ithought. What I am creatinglooks nothing like what I see on allthose YouTube videos. Then I ​rememberthat we are in a time of crisis, and Iam doing the best I can withwhat I have, whereI am.

Recycling Center, Lebanon, NH April 2, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

The otherday at the landfill,I had two cameras, soeven though the settings wereoff on one, the other was just right.Using the tools at hand, I was able to capturethe eerily empty six-foot social distancing spaces atthe recycling center. In a time of crisis, I thinkit helps to have guidance whether inthe form of a spray-paintedbox, or poetry in a book,written by someoneyou love.

My son working at home April 2010 Photo by ERSwett

It does feel,though, that mothersand mother earth have super-powers in their abilities to hold andsooth pain &, by doing so, nourish that painso that it can transform into whateverit is meant to become, in allits tactile, fragile​beauty.

Calvin the dog, curious about the new office and the return of Our Lady of Perpetual Transformation Photo by ERSwett

Voice Message by Katherine Barrett Swett - - Please order through your local independent bookstore. I ordered mine through Still North Books in Hanover, NH

If you can, please support those in your life who needs it...whether it's the person who cares for your loved ones, cares for your home, or cares for you. Venmo and a simple old fashioned check work wonders.

WhenI visited theLebanon Solid Wasteand Recycling Facility (alsoknown as The Landfill) last week,this is what I saw: Fresh snow and asparkling blue sky. The airsmelled clean and theearth seemed to breath.

For almost a year, I've beendocumenting the Landfilland have not been surprised bythe tons of waste dumped onto theground, creating a mountainwhere there had oncebeen a valley.

Dump Truck Unloading Garbage, March 2020 Photo by ERSwett

I havebeen in awe,however, at the rawbeauty of this rugged pieceof earth in our midst and the artfulway the crew at the landfillsculpts our garbageevery day.

Sculpting The Earth, February 2020 Photo by ERSwett

I lovehow landfillscontain the wastefrom our lives, no matterwho we are or where we comefrom. Beneath the skillful manipulationof soil and wood chips mixed with our garbage,lies all of us, mixed and mingled together.The universality of this realityhumbles and invitespause.

Organic Soup Container, March 2020 Photo by ERSwett

Thisdiscardedorganic tomato soup carton could bemine. And how strange tosee one of the organic producebags from the Co-op stuck in the mud.As a photographer, I love the yellow against thedark earth and the way the sun makes the plastic shine.As a naturalist, I am saddened. Will one of​the crows or other birds thatvisits this open landbe poisoned by​the plastic?

Organic Produce Bag, March 2020 Photo by ERSwett

A fewminutes later,when the sun wentbehind a cloud, it was notthe play of light, but the play of textures and tones that caught my eye,and the way the color of the ground shiftedfrom raw black soil to brown shredded bark to alayer of plastic and then on to the snow-covered hillside.And here was this massive vehicle whose solejob is to smash it all up, but which, in the process, creates theseelegant circles inthe soil.

To manageour waste, the landfillcrew harnesses a complex mixof engineering, biology, chemistry and art.​It's all about containment - How to safely entombour garbage so that it stays where we put it,does not leach toxic runoff or becomea landslide, or explode from​noxious gases.

Crow at The Landfill, March 2020 Photo by ERSwett

When atThe Landfill thispast week I thought aboutour current struggles with the Covid-19pandemic. Just as our waste is mixed and mingledso too are we all in this complex crisis together. Our challengethough, is that as a society, we don't have the toolswe need or the necessary systems inplace to manage a crisis ofthis magnitude.

Abstraction with Dried Mud, 2019 Photo by ERSwett

For me,it's not hard tomanage what I know or to plan for things I understand. Likein this discarded tax preparation worksheetfrom 1992, I can do whatever calculations I must.But when confronted with variables I donot understand that are beyondmy control, I becomea bit befuddled.

20th Century Accounting, March 2020 Photo by ERSwett

Whileat The Landfilllast week, though, themanager indicated that theywere receiving 35% less waste thanjust two weeks before. He suggested that it'slike everyone & everything is taking a deep breath anda giant pause. Maybe, I thought, that is what the earth and eachone of us needs right now...as long as we care for​each other along the way...becausewe are most definitely inthis together...

Welcome tothe first day of Spring.We woke to a light dusting ofsnow and are a bit disappointed by yetanother cloudy day. But it is, after all, March inNew Hampshire and we are experiencing a global pandemic. So the fact that​The Green is empty andstores are closedis real.

J. Crew Closure, March 2020, Hanover, NH Photo by ERSwett

So too​is compost.The narcissus maybe done, but they are stillmaking lemon curd at Umpleby'sand we are still eating bananas. In themidst of disappointed teenagersat home, I return, as always,to the colors, shapes &textures of my​compost​pile.

Yellow Narcissus & Lemons, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

My gratitudefor this pile is deep.Year after year it transformswaste into nourishment for gardenswhile at the same time inviting me to bepatient, get my hands dirty, andremember that sometimeslife is really messy.

Coffee Filters, 2020 Photo by ERSwett

As if bymagic, though,creativity emerges overand over again out of the apparentmess. It should be no surprise to you, then,that I have more photographs of coffee filters. Whoknows how long the supply will last, but theyare such a simple way for me to connectwith my sister, Sarah Swett, whokeeps making things out of​these funny piecesof paper.

Finding Joy with Coffee Filters, March 2020 Photo by ERSwett

And inthe process,I pay closer attentionto what was once just anotherpart of the waste I collected each weekfrom Umpleby's Bakery & Cafein Hanover, NH. Coffeefilters, it turns outare beautiful.

It allseemed so funny, howI packaged them up,but am waiting two weeksto send them, for fear I might haveThe Virus and might unknowingly mail it tomy sister whose husband has cancer and definitelycan't get this thing. So once again my compostand all its associated projects invitepatience and humor. Thisreally is all quitemessy...

Coffee Filters Folded and Ready to Ship Photo by ERSwett

...andbeautiful,because eventhough we may bethousands of miles apart,we are together, exploring thesefunny pieces of paper andwondering what willemerge from itall.

Our Daily Grapefruit Photo by ERSwett

So afterI finish this blogpost, I will go upstairs tocut our daily grapefruit - one foreach member of the family every day foras long as supplies last.During times of stress anduncertainty, I like routines. I like this habit of culling & cleaningcoffee filters to send to my sister. I like making something healthy for our familyon a regular basis. And I like making sure ​we laugh about the fact it's aThursday & my kids are eating breakfast at 2 pm just whenI'm having my mid afternoon snack. It's allpart of a new routine and I'mOK with all of that...

Kids at Home March 2020 Photo by ERSwett

...because it is March andeven though it seems darkand gray and lonely to be stuck athome, I know that the bulbs will emergefrom the frozen earth & spring willcome, because that's nature'sroutine, and I'm goodwith that.

Today's view in my studio. Photo by ERSwett

PSIt is stillWomen's HistoryMonth...so let's support each other as much as we canfrom afar. For inspiration of all kinds,check out my friend Jennifer Jewell's PodcastCultivating Place - - The January episodes were allabout the therapeutic and spiritual capacitiesof our gardens - in all their forms. Weneed that now, more​than ever.

So herethey are. Morecoffee filters. In theraw, straight from the pileand into the bucket.Salvaged onceagain.

First rinse, still in the 5-gallon bucket. Photo by ERSwett

I wonderif the originalcup of coffee or frothycappuccino was as compellingto look at and as sumptuous to smell asthese filters getting their​first rinse?

They are just so cool. Extraction from the bucket. Photo by ERSwett

I loveworking withthese strange pieces ofpaper. When we have coffee at ourhouse, which is rare, we use a French Press. Sofor me, these are an entirely new material which have, untilrecently, just been part of my decomposing compost.Now, though, with my sister's inspiration, they have become yet anotherinvitation to exploreour materialworld.

Unfiltered coffee filters ready for final rinse. Photo by ERSwett

When I take them outof the 5-gallon compostcollection bucket and move theminto the rinsing tub in our sink, these dirtyfilters become precious materialsfilled with creative​potential.

Everything needs a bath once in a while. Photo by ERSwett

These coffee filtersare soft between myfingers when I pull them outof the tub and hang them up to dry.Once on the rack, all I noticeis the play of light ontheir texturedfiber.

Coffee Filter Abstraction Photo by ERSwett

All Iwant to dois move in closer toexplore these materials aboutwhich I know so little. Once again, mycompost invites me to consider more than meetsthe eye. While I have an idea of what my sister, Sarah C.Swett, might create out of these filters, theirback story, like so many backstories, remains a​mystery.

Clearly,this narrativeis unfolding as I write,Sarah's imagination leading herand my investigations taking me wherethey go. But here we are, unfiltered, making itup along the way. It does seem, however, that ours isa circular narrative, filled with the ebbsand flows of our lives andcuriosities.

Let's ReFrame!is a bi-weekly viewsletter that hopefully inspires joy & transformation. It will include links to recent blog posts, updates about my work, and, best of all, inspirational action prompts for you to explore your creativity and passion for the world you love. Oh, and I promise I won't share your information (that would be so uncool) and I don't actually do promotions, but that text is required.

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